Open Hands
by popehippo
Summary: Javik and Shepard, and the final battle. WARNING - SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR A SCENE IN THE EXTENDED DLC


"Commander?"

The world is dark and blood blinds his left eyes. Pain cripples him so that he can barely stand on his own without the turian's help, making breathing difficult and speaking more so. The air around him smothers him with senses and scents - terror, hate, unbridled bloodlust. The stench of battle.

But through it all, like a beacon in the night, he can see her face.

"You gotta get out of here," she says with resolve. There's little room for argument in her tone.

"This... is where I belong," he grunts, because it's true. This was to be his final battle, not hers. If he was going to die, better to be here. Now.

Fighting at her side.

"Don't argue with me," she snaps and gestures for him to be taken away.

He shakes his head, refusing to be pulled aside. "But I can still fight."

And there is the briefest of pauses between them. The air seems quieter. Time, slower. For a heartbeat, they're all that's left with this space between them, only a few feet between safety and death. The hard mask of the commander fades and he can see her fear. He knows she can see his too.

She offers him a smile, and he knows she means it. It hurts more than any broken bone in his body.

"I need to know somebody's getting out of this alive."

Reality invades again, louder than imaginable and full of pain and all too fast for him to process. His strength is failing, but he pushes out the words, calling to her. "Commander!"

"Good luck."

The turian begins to pull him away, despite his continued resistance. He reaches out towards her, despite all reason. No. No... Not now...

The reaper roars above them like a predator issuing a challenge to its prey.

In an instant, the smile is gone. Her voice is steel as she barks out her order. " _Go_ _!_"

Darkness is seeping into his mind; unconsciousness is bitterly close. Already her image is dissipating until her features are gone and all he can see is her shape. His fingers find only empty air.

He had expected to die tonight. Part of him had wanted it. An end on the battlefield, a final assault against his ancient enemy. It was fitting. He thought he was at peace with that.

But as he is carried into the belly of the ship, eerily quiet and calm compared to the hell taking place outside its metal walls, he realizes with agony that he was not at peace with the reality that the one remaining would be her.

* * *

"Javik?"

He looks to the figure in the bed next to his chair. The human moves carefully as she slowly rouses herself from sleep.

"Commander," he replies softly.

"You're here. When did you..." She sits up with some struggle to look at him, clearly surprised. "The crew...?"

"We arrived today. You were asleep," he explains, dismissing her concern with a wave of a hand. "It seemed you required it. They said it was quite some time before you were located."

"It wasn't exactly a holiday," she admits. "I'm... not even sure how long I was out... it was a while."

Her tone is joking, but he can tell her words are no exaggeration; despite the surgeries that had taken place while the Normandy crew had been stranded and its AI repaired, there would be more still. Her breath comes in short bursts, and even then her voice is rough and tired. It is hard not to glance at the missing space in the sheets where a left leg had been.

"But you can still fight," he says, giving voice to his thoughts, recalling words he had said what seemed like so, so long ago.

The human chuckles. "Hm. I was kinda hoping I wouldn't need to do that so much anymore. Not sure if we could find anything worse than all that."

"As your people say, Commander, do not tempt fate."

That gets a real laugh out of her, though it quickly falls into a coughing fit that she has to take a moment to recover from. When she does, he realizes she's trying to say something.

"I'm... sorry I took you from the fight. I know how badly... badly you wanted to fight... But-"

Javik holds up a hand to stop her. "No. You were correct. I would have died there if you had not intervened." He pauses and reaches over to the bed, placing his hand near hers on the sheets. The skin is marred and torn, but he has no doubts that there's still an Avatar's strength in that grip.

"That would not have been vengeance. It would only have been an end to me. An end, but not what I was there for. Being here now, speaking to you, knowing that we are alive because of our actions together, and seeing our enemies finally in ruins while we still stand... That is a true victory."

She smiles and he can't help but return it. It is not a common expression for him. But it feels good, soft, simple. An ideal he has rarely experienced, yet now it feels as natural as breathing. Perhaps this is how it feels to be at peace.

"I... I do not have words to explain... my gratitude," he murmurs. "For everything."

"Me neither. Just that... I'm glad you're here."

"I would not be elsewhere. This is where I belong."

For a second time, he reaches out for her.

And today, Shepard is there to take his hand.


End file.
